500
by Eternal-Night-Ride
Summary: Flash fiction of pairings like Benlie, Gwevin and MyTrax. Each with different themes, with a word limit of 500.
1. Benlie

Insecurity

They are trying to get her out. Out of her own head. Inside there's too many colors; saturated and painful.

It's talking to her. A strange alien with an ability to seep through the pores of another being's skin and attach itself to the memory bank of one's mind. The occasional moments that she feels like bursting into tears when she smells her grandmother's perfume is those times it's experimentally picking at her brain. It doesn't really talk to her in words at first. It's forgotten that it should.

Sometimes they're not her memories. It's collected too many. It makes something else other than its amorphous, indescribable form to conduct conversation. It wants to stay inside her head since she's warm and welcoming. If it only barks and rubs endearingly on her leg, she'll scoop it up and take it home. It knows what she's like. It's checked with others that it's left.

But it's becoming less welcome and more desperate. So it does something that hurts her so it can convince her in its twisted way. To hold on straws.

It looks like a girl with long dark hair, sharp gray eyes, sun-kissed skin. Bracelets hang off her delicate wrist. She doesn't know this girl. "She was first, you know. First is always better. She's interesting and you're vanilla. Her grandfather's a good friend of his grandfather. And you're related to nothing. Coming out of nowhere."

She doesn't reply. She's not angry yet but she's getting colder. She just turns away.

Then fine hair turns to a familiar shade of golden. What morphs smiles for the nonexistent camera. It's thin and statuesque. "You're not beautiful or famous enough. You can't catch up. What makes you think he chose you for anything else other than the safety in familiarity? He's overwhelmed now but in the future-"

She cuts it off by moving one of the blindingly bright things and throwing. Because now it hurts. But she puts on a brave face.

She's trying to scream out of the nightmare but she doesn't hear anything but the transformation into a new face. It's another one she doesn't know. But it smirks confidently with lips as red as the blazing jacket that huddles its form. Even in the dark, she can see the beauty mark on the top of its lip.

"They haven't told you about her, all for the best. Because she's better than you in everything. She can fight without a pet lugging behind her. She's dark and fascinating. She can understand him. For all your superficial need to understand, you don't really relate. She's human, just like you, but she's one of them. And you're an outsider."

That's when they pull her out and it feels like she's been drowning. Their smiles are comforted and she nervously smiles back. She stares at his green eyes. When he asks if she's okay, she gives a not-answer. All vagueness from her own insecurities. But she puts on a brave face.

* * *

Not Far

_Your words in my memory_

_Are like music to me_

Goodbyes had been awkward. Seeing each other practically everyday made things a little difficult. A lot difficult. A green phone silently lay on his palm as he remembered yesterday.

He had been fiddling with the straw instead of drinking. Lip-biting and running his hands through his brown hair, he tried to look at her as he said something. He couldn't.

He had been frustrated with his inability to be supportive. Her face looked so guilty. But despite his constant heroism, he wanted to cling to this one selfishness.

"It's not like forever, right?" he said nervously. "When you finish college and move out, you'll come back. Right?"

The smile on her face was painfully beautiful. "Mm-hm," she pronounced uncertainly.

The affirmation, no matter how weak, had been enough. A smile broke out on his face. A little later on he joked about using her pet to visit back in Bellwood. He actually pat the cutting from under the table, as if thinking less of her pet as competition for attention but as a bridge.

The lead in his stomach only fell when he drove her back home.

The flight was that day. As he stared at the phone in his hand, he lost the courage to make a final goodbye. He turned it off and tried to sleep. He also tried to forget about the meaning of flight or the time six forty-five AM. He couldn't.

A few months in and it still wasn't easy. He saw her on a computer screen sometimes. It got rarer as time passed. She had so much to do and so did he.

He stood in front of the computer screen in Rustbucket 2 and a digital map blinked at the corner. The Magister talked about the nature of the attack on Earth, Kevin drove and Gwen answered the Plumber when he didn't.

His fingers traced lines over the continents and oceans. Then his hand recoiled when he reached a small country at the northeast section of the map. He hated that it didn't seem that far.

Later on while he ran; jumped from the shattered floor of a building; morphed into a form with wings, his thoughts went back to how close that country was. His heart pounded. He was going to keep all this well away from that place. No closer.

Even later, he coughed a bright red spray of liquid on the ground. He choked out his cousin and his best friend's names. Knees buckled and banged on the pavement. Lungs tried to hack itself out. Eyes wanted to shut themselves closed. Face scraped on the floor when his eyes gave in.

Prying his eyes open, he rolled on to his back. He stared at the night sky. The darkness dotted with stars reminded him of smooth black hair that shone. Eyes determined, the symbol of peace activated.

On the other side of the world, a girl lay on the cold grass dimly thinking of them as bright green eyes. Disoriented, she reached out to the stars that would be blocked by smoke occasionally. Around her, it burned.

_I'm miles from where you are_

_I lay down on the cold ground,_

_I pray that something picks me up _

_And sets me down in your warm arms._

_

* * *

_

Sweet Dream

She was his friend, if he no longer felt that way about her. She didn't know. There were too many lights. He had become blinded by them. Too dizzying. She was personally scared of it.

Once upon a time, there was a magazine and the two of them on the cover. She had overreacted, too frightened of what it all meant. He had comforted her. But was a long time ago.

At first he had been confused and overwhelmed but very appreciative. Too appreciative. He had eventually learned to love it. He had begun to - her mind was more tearful than scathing at the thought - alienate her. Alienate everyone. His cousin had told her that he was acting ten again, probably worse. At that time, she could still joke - maybe it wasn't a joke - that it was worse.

Now he was so far away from her, bathing in bright lights and making friends with influential people who were more plastic than people. Her life was normal now; boring and very normal.

Instead of angry, she was still scared. Not because of the sweet dream of their smiles together lost in time, but this dream-like bubble he was in that she knew was momentary. With a heart still holding a sliver of love from back then, she hoped he turned from the lights and still found someone behind him from the people he deserted. Before they left in exhaustion.

* * *

A/N: These stories were done to practice writing flash fiction (500 word limit). Not to mention, this was obviously written out of a lot of negative emotions.

Insecurity, Not Far and Sweet Dream - are lampshades to Julie-hatedom in the form of pro-Benlie fics. Yes, they're very scathing. Not Far has lyrics of the beautiful song "Set The Fire To The Third Bar" by Snow Patrol.


	2. Allie

Drug

The first time he had been to Earth, he spent most of his hours searching for people connected to his target through news articles. He was tracking down through the primitive information database and communication means called the 'internet'. Old enough not to have voice prompts, interactivity was limited to button-clicking and with speed slower than an ancient Galvan, he was stumped by its bugs and inefficiencies. He screamed profanities and raised his hands at it, which caused him to be kicked out.

Aggressive negotiations were implemented on names or organizations that cropped up in the search. At the end of it all, he realized he had been ignoring the body's needs in favor of the search. He was starving.

So he stumbled into a building in the assumption people acquired food there. His nourishment-deprived, inferior human brain forgot that such things would be exchanged with local currency. As he prepared to leave and get those, he bumped into someone.

The human looked as if she had been doing something strenuous, moisture causing her hair and clothes to cling to her. Her mouth panted lightly. She apologized profusely, until she seemed to have a revelation on who he was.

A dark expression settled on his face as he realized this was the end of his search. She blinked in confusion but eventually, her expression dissolved into a smile. She assumed it was hunger and asked to treat him to the food.

The touch of her soft hands was the first indication and he had already been uncomfortable. He should have left but hunger kept him there. When he said he didn't care about the choice of food, she picked for him.

Chili fries.

The name was crooned in a voice so quietly melodic, it sent chills down his spine. The food itself left much to be desired. The oily, messy, miasma rank such a foul stench it blocked out his companion's gentle, sweeter fragrance, which lessened his discomfort if a little.

Consumption always looked undignified to him, but there was something so excruciating to watch his companion eat. Not because she ate crudely but because of her delicate, barely opened mouth manner of eating; moist lips wrapped gently around the bread it doesn't even look like biting.

He clamped his teeth around the chili fries and ate it as if he had a grudge on it. It was almost unbearable to realize that such a disgusting human concoction appealed to his palate, but he actually liked it.

There was so much confusing, sensory responses he just stood straight up, badly excused himself and left before she could say anything. He could care less about her name or her information. Outside, he felt like scratching himself painfully against the cement to rid of the nauseating sensations.

Despite himself, he found himself outside the store the next day, clutching stolen money in a vice grip and buying the same damned thing. He craved it like a drug.

* * *

Beautiful Nightmare

She burned. Every time. Bled, cried, suffered, screamed, bruised, broke, snapped, clutched, struggled, suffocated, gasped, coughed, gurgled, bled. Black and blue and red all over. Gentle kisses and torn ligaments. Sweet murmurs and bloodcurdling screeches. He loved her, he hated her. She hated him, she loved him. Push and pull.

She wanted to run away but she ran right back. He dismissed her, degraded her, insulted her yet all the same, he couldn't get enough of her. Every time she hurt, he hurt as much. Every one of her pained tears and every pained cry, there was a begrudging but honest apology and a broken heart. The next time it would happen right over.

They were both sadistic, both masochistic. Just for this thing about them.

It was easy to turn to roles like those. He was emotional and incredibly so. Improper for someone of his intellect. He blamed it on everything, especially his circumstance. She was cooler and logical. But she was so passive aggressive and it got under his skin. She was a fascinating challenge but she could be difficult enough to frustrate.

He was enigmatic, broken but not interested in being fixed. He reminded her of someone that had gone from her, but so delectably different. She was beautiful, he supposed. He wasn't entirely sure since he didn't have the appropriate cultural knowledge to analyze such a thing. Wide-eyed and curious, as calm as a flowing stream. Until the two of them happened.

They were both intelligent, but they had fallen into incredibly stupid actions. This thing with the two of them, it wasn't explosive. Not before. It had started off wary, equally curious. One manipulative, the other sympathetic. Then it became a mess because the obsession came. First him, then her. Otherwise, why would she have stayed?

Nothing felt more satisfying, none more delicious. Nothing drew as much ecstasy or gratification. So she burned. And he burned her.

* * *

A/N: The Allie drabbles.

Drug - There's always been something so appropriate with lust and gluttony together, connected through the force of greed. I just made Albie's interest in chili fries distinctly more disturbing instead of humorous.

Beautiful Nightmare - inspired by a few songs. Also inspired by a fic I wrote which was graphic and nightmarish enough to eventually spawn the creation of an OC named Kenan. Though this is actually physical, emotional and verbal abuse instead of that other thing. Still just as dark, but at least not graphic.


	3. Gwevin

Healing

There was something so natural about him that felt victimized. Everyone else was to blame, never himself. He felt persecuted, felt hated. It was this underlying mutual hatred with the world that was the make-up of his very soul. It felt like whatever he did was justified by the everything that had happened to him before. After all, if the world was trying its best to hate him, he could hate it back.

If this sensation of his that always lay underneath the smart-mouthed, cool and tough exterior was left unchecked it just brought him right back. All those things where everything was horrible and everyone was the enemy. People who were nice just hadn't had enough time to insult, beat up or harass him yet. Things were a waiting time bomb to hurt him.

Then people shot it down and called him out on it. He thought he would never even think such a think, but he was thankful for them. It managed to control the unruly things about him that distorted his perception of the world.

Gwen was too nice about it, perhaps. She did her part in keeping him in check differently, by being compassionate and eternally understanding. She fought for him and he ticked over because she was always there.

Ben was tougher because could insult more easily and he could hit lower. This attitude poured cold water over his head. It didn't necessarily bring him back to his senses, but it always threw him off. It gave things to consider when he was past thinking of things.

Ben was like the needle and Gwen was the blanket. Ben stung like a bitch, but he knew it was good for him. Gwen held him together, wrapped him up securely and made him feel warm to make him all better. Without them, his not-family, he'd never have healed over.

Because all of his wounds, past the ones made from the death of his father, eventually became self-inflicted. He was too destructive to be left alone.

* * *

A/N: Healing- Bevin friendship and Gwevin shipping, though could be taken as gen-fic. Written because rewatching original series episodes with my sister allowed her to snark it and allow me to realize how much of an unbearable whiny teenager Kevin was even at 11. His victim mentality, contradictory behavior and even the voice acting screamed: teenager. She considers his derailment in AF positive. I agree.


	4. Gwooper

Belonged To Someone Else

She was so beautiful, wonderful, smart. When she fell, she picked herself up and came on stronger. Red, flaming hair and vibrant green eyes tougher than anything he'd ever seen. He was so infatuated with her that he would offer life and limb to even so much as gain her respect.

At the start, she treated him rather ambivalently, bordering on slight annoyance. Then later on with a kindness that he knew was purely friendship.

In his heart, as pathetic and deluded as it was, always held hope. Always held eternal admiration.

When they were younger and it was only the first time they've met, he didn't treat her specially. He was probably too young to think about girls. But when the cousins had stumbled back into his life during the invasion, he had become attracted to her. He was still awkward, small and out of shape, which made him ridiculously inferior in comparison to their taller, dark-haired friend.

Despite it all, it never really stopped. He remained impressed with her, drawn to her.

It hurt to watch them. Because even after he'd finally grown into his own body and served some kind of respectable competition to that guy, it seemed like nothing. Even when the one she loved hurt her, turned into a monster, became everything that would deter anyone else, she held strongly. It was part of his admiration for her. Just as that swelled his heart, that broke it.

When they shared a kiss in their triumph from adversary, he commented in his own defeat. But she smiled and that was everything to him. That small kiss, the way she looked at him after seeing him changed so much for the first time. It had been everything to him. So he would wait, be grateful for the scraps of affection he could scrape off the bottom from where she'd been loved off by that guy.

Because if she could be strong in her love, so could he.

_My heart is full _

_And my door's always open_

_You come anytime you want_

* * *

A/N: Belonged To Someone Else - Gwooper, which I've started to like more than Gwevin because of certain fandom things. "She Will Be Loved" lyrics by Maroon 5 was used.


	5. MyTrax

Vulnerable

She was really difficult. Too many issues in herself. Cowardly, selfish, and with a tongue of blades. If not for his own strength, he wouldn't put up with her. He didn't think that anybody could ever be too smart, but she was. She wasn't the assistant of the smartest being in three galaxies if she wasn't. Or too tough, because she honestly was. Because then she kept to herself, made scornful remarks at every turn and didn't need his protection.

Not that he wanted her to drag him down and he was actually proud of her ability to take care of herself. But it was almost like trying to prove she was independent of him so completely, he was feeling segmented and pushed away. She probably didn't mean it.

A piece of technology that was supposed to be sold to an interested party started it. She was the seller, he was supposed to play bodyguard to make sure she got to the buyer. He could see her bristling irritation at the suggestion that she would be incompetent at protecting herself. He even saw her tentacles twitch in annoyance. But her employer barked at her to do it and she barked back a resentful surrender.

And they went. That was when chaos started. This time, she was actually injured enough to need more help than the usual. Her aggravation, he realized, was primarily out of embarrassment. Out of seeing her be vulnerable.

She didn't understand then that her vulnerability actually made her more endearing. She was real, imperfect. Just like him. She made mistakes. While his mistakes could sometimes blow out of proportion and destroy his own planet, things had developed where he had found himself where she was.

He told her he wasn't protecting her, he was just giving her some back-up.

She was imperfect and difficult, but she was difficult just the way he liked it.

* * *

A/N: Vulnerable - one of the least cynical drabbles, along with "Healing", if only because MyTrax always makes me think happy thoughts.


End file.
